Chapter Seven
IT HAD BEEN WEEKS SINCELady Aurora had started living in the dorm, and the impact of this on Michael was quite...noticeable.
Perhaps to strangers, it wouldn’t be as evident. One look at the royal sheikh, and they would see that his presence was still commanding, every inch the handsome and powerful ruler of Layla. But because she did know him just a bit more than strangers did...
Ella knew that the tightness around his eyes was not typical of him. Or the way his jaw never seemed to unclench. She had seen the way his gaze would drift whenever Aurora’s name was mentioned—like a man haunted by a ghost he himself had created. Seen the hunger he tried so hard to hide. Whatever was between them, it ran deep.
The things she noticed were all little things, but they were little things that mattered, with a man as composed as the sheikh, and that was why when he asked her for a favor...
She didn’t hesitate to say yes, and in her eagerness to help, she failed to realize what this would mean to her. She forgot how all eyes were on her, too, waiting for her to make a mistake. All she cared about was taking the letter from the Sheikh of Layla and doing her job as his trusted courier.
After all, what was a fairy tale without a good messenger?
And so off she went to the dormitory of Michael’s ward, letter clutched in her hand.
Here goes nothing...
Ella knocked on the door but didn’t wait for an answer as she entered the room.
Oh.
The curtains were drawn against the afternoon light, as if the girl inside had decided that sunshine was too cheerful a thing to bear. Aurora sat curled on the narrow bed, still in her nightgown despite the late hour, arms wrapped around herself as if trying to hold together pieces that kept falling apart. Her golden hair—the kind of hair that belonged in a storybook, the kind that princes were supposed to climb—was tangled and unwashed. And even from across the room, Ella could see it: the way the girl’s fingers kept drifting to her lips, touching them absently, as if the memory of his kiss was a spell she couldn’t break.
Since she and Aurora attended the same school, Ella had seen the other girl every so often, and Aurora was always full of life. But now?
This girl was just doing her best to take things one day at a time...just like a certain royal sheikh.
Two stubborn fools, the both of them. It would be romantic if it weren’t so infuriating.
“I’m so sorry to barge in unannounced—” Ella pretended not to notice Aurora straightening, preparing to ask her to leave. “—but I just needed to come here and give you this.”
Ella held out the letter, and her heart broke a little when she saw the way Aurora’s lip started to tremble as soon as her gaze fell on the royal seal.
“Is that...is that...”
It took Ella an extra second to realize what had Aurora wanting to cry, and she wanted to kick herself in the head for not anticipating that.
“It’s not a wedding invitation,” she said hastily, emphatically. “It’s really a letter—a handwritten letter from the Crown Prince of Layla. For you.”
Aurora rose from the bed on unsteady legs and crossed to where Ella stood. Her hands were shaking as she took the letter and broke the seal. Her fingers lingered on the wax, on the place where his hands had touched, and Ella’s heart ached at the desperate tenderness in that small gesture.
This girl was so obviously, hopelessly in love.
And so, Ella suspected, was the idiot who had sent this letter.
Ella held her breath, hoping that whatever it was that Michael had written would finally clear whatever misunderstanding there was between them.
“He wishes me well,” the other girl said blankly.
But obviously not.
Oh, Sheikh Michael, you totally blew it!
Of all the things to write to the woman you loved, the sheikh chose...I wish you well?SERIOUSLY?What was next?Best regards? Warm wishes for your future endeavors?
